Winter Wonderland
by WillowDryad
Summary: What was this Christmas surprise the High King had planned? Golden Age.


**Disclaimer: Peter Pevensie and all the characters and situations in the Chronicles of Narnia belong to C. S. Lewis and not to me. This story follows _The Ciaramella_ and comes before _If I Didn't Care_.  
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Winter Wonderland

"Where are we going, My Lord King?"

Linnet gripped Peter's hand more tightly, wanting to pull off the blindfold she had agreed to but forcing herself to be patient instead. She had come from Archenland to Narnia just the past summer and was still something of a stranger to the ways of this enchanted land. But she knew she could trust to the honor of the High King. Ada, her maid and chaperone, had agreed to let them go for a walk in the snowy wood, if only for a short while, and even the twin Tigers who were the King's personal guard kept a discreet distance.

She had seen the fresh snowfall from her window that morning, a Christmassy, powdered sugar snow that made the sky look bluer and the sun seem brighter, and she had been delighted when Peter had asked her to accompany him. But before they had even stepped into the courtyard, he had covered her eyes with a strip of black cloth folded into four thick layers. She had been able to answer affirmatively and truthfully when he asked her if she was certain she could see nothing.

"Where are we going?" she asked again. "To visit the Beavers?"

He laughed. "That's miles away. We've walked for maybe five minutes so far."

"But where are we going?"

"Well," he said thoughtfully, "I didn't tell you where we were going before we left the Cair and I blindfolded you so you wouldn't see until we got there _and_ this is a Christmas present, so . . . I think that must mean it's meant to be a surprise." He tucked her arm more tightly under his. "Trust me?"

She couldn't help a shy smile. "Of course."

"We'll be there soon."

They were walking deeper into the forest, she was sure of that. She could hear the twitter of the Birds and the scurrying of little Animals, all of them calling Christmas greetings to their High King. She hadn't quite gotten over her wonder and delight whenever one of them spoke, and every time she saw the love and care Peter had for even the smallest of his subjects, she could not help the growing tenderness she felt for him. What would it be like to stay here always? To live in the wonder of this Aslan-blessed kingdom and to love–

No, she would not think of that yet. She and Peter were still becoming acquainted with each other. Despite the terrors they had faced just a few months ago, despite her longtime admiration for him, they had agreed they would not be hasty. A genuine love would stand the test of time.

Still, she loved walking at his side. Even blindfolded, she did not fear she would stumble. He knew this forest, every tree and every path, every burrow and nest. He would not steer her wrongly. But, oh, she wished they would come to whatever place he had planned for them to go. Something in Lucy's giggle and Susan's knowing smile, something in Edmund's smirk made Linnet certain Peter had discussed this surprise with them ahead of time. What could it be out here in the midst of nothing?

She realized abruptly that there were no more greetings from the little inhabitants of the forest. No Birds chirped. No Squirrels chattered.

"Peter–"

"Shh," he said. "No questions now. Just listen."

For a moment there was only stillness. Then there was a rustle in the winter-bare tree limbs, but it wasn't the irregular sound caused by the wind. There was a rhythm to it. Not fast but not too slow, it was a lilting, swaying rhythm that made her want to sway with it. The rustling of the branches was soon joined by a soft, hollow-sounding beat, a stronger beat that blended with the first and which was soon joined by a low, snowy shushing sound.

"Peter," she breathed, but he only hushed her again, squeezing her closer to his side.

Then, from somewhere above, there came a soft, clear voice singing one wordless note. That note was joined by a second and then a third and then a multitude. And then the notes changed and moved, making a wild joyous song to the rhythm of the trees.

"Now," Peter whispered, and he unbound her eyes.

"Oh."

It was all she could say, for all around her was the music of the forest. In the trees, the Dryads kept time with their branches and sang with their pure, clear voices. The Naiads joined them from the stream nearby, singing and cracking the ice in their long, pale fingers to add to the crashing rhythm. Rabbits and Deer beat time with their feet against hollow logs. Squirrels pushed mounds of snow from one drift to another, making the rhythmic shushing sound, and a bright-eyed knot of Fox kits and Wolf cubs yipped and howled in perfect chorus with the Birds that swooped and circled above. It was as beautiful as the music of the court, melody and countermelody, rhythm and harmony, but it was as wild and free as glorious Narnia herself.

"Oh, Peter," she breathed, tears stinging her eyes and falling warm on her cold face. "Peter–"

"Lady," he said, blue eyes shining as he made a courtly bow and offered her his hand, "would you care to dance?"

**Author's Note: I know I've been away from Fan Fiction for a while, but I promise I have not abandoned Peter and Linnet and everyone else in peril in **_**Wind's Harvest**_**. I will finish that story as soon as I can. For now, I want to wish everyone a season of wonder and joy in remembrance of that first Christmas and God's greatest gift to us, His Son. Merry Christmas to all!**


End file.
